


Borrowed Resource

by BalefireFlatlands



Series: The Balefire [6]
Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Dub con but Scab is into it so, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: Jeet finally finds out why Blas Cap tolerates Scab.





	Borrowed Resource

The nights had gotten a little warmer. No one was in danger of freezing to death, and Jeet’s mood had marginally improved. Marginally. Now that everyone wasn’t huddled around for warmth there had been more attacks, War Boys trying to overrun the lighthouse or cut off supply routes. Blas Cap had concocted some sort of explosive that they’d buried out in the dune leading up to the lighthouse, and when the lead car had hit it the resulting fiery inferno had taken out almost the entire war party.

Actually Jeet was pleased, he just didn’t know how to show it. Blas Cap had proven his worth again and again, he wasn’t much for tactics, but if anything needed to blow up or be shot at he had infinite ideas for how to do that. Keeping him happy kept the stronghold safe, and he had few needs; mainly food and a place to sleep. He slept a lot actually, more than any of the Wastelanders, because he was so emaciated, weak from his time with the Thrall Rustlers where his muscles had withered away. He’d been in Jeet’s stronghold for months and he’d barely gained any weight, still looking horrifically malnourished, and his hair had never grown back. Irradiated for so long from working the mine and drinking tainted water he was now irreparably damaged. He was still stained yellow too even though he’d stopped painting himself. The only reason he wasn’t actively dying was because Jeet had given him a soft place to live with clean water and food while he slowly recovered; more resources than anyone else in the stronghold received, because he needed it more.

He was also turning into quite the nighttime companion for Jeet. Which probably didn’t help how much he slept since Jeet was keeping him up all hours to drag him into the storeroom or the top of the lighthouse. Blas could make some amazing noises, and having those lanky legs wrapped around him was one of Jeet’s small pleasures in life.

Kneeling next to the small storage alcove he’d granted Blas Cap as his dwelling, Jeet was hoping to catch him while he was still awake. He felt like fucking before he himself retired to sleep in his chair. But Blas was already out cold, curled on his side and buried under blankets. Scab was awake though, draped half over Blas’ side, glaring up at Jeet from dark eyes. Jeet glared right back, he would have liked to cast the War Boy out, or at the least cut his tongue out so he wasn’t always yelling, but Blas seemed to like him for reasons that Jeet could not fathom so he’d let him stay.

What did Blas see in this broken War Boy? Other than using him as a mattress most nights which Jeet didn’t understand either. He wasn’t a cuddler, wanted to sate his lust and then move on immediately, but Blas seemed to enjoy skin on skin contact and warmth. Probably needed it for how skinny he was. Jeet motioned to Scab, “Get out here.”

Scab snarled, and at first it looked like Jeet would have to drag him out of there and he’d probably pull everything out with him, but then Scab looked down at the still sleeping Bullet Boy and got up on his palms, pulling himself out of the small room on his hands. He slumped to the side, supporting himself with one arm so he could scowl up at the warlord. Scab was unbelievably pale, even without the remnants of the white war paint that was now mostly faded away. He hadn’t been outside or seen the sun in over a year and he looked deathly white. The stripes down his forehead and vertically across his lips, now done with gunpowder instead of grease, added to his constantly pissed off expression. He rivaled Jeet for how bitter and angry he was.

Still, he wasn’t bad to look at, even if he was always snarling and trying to attack people. Like right then when he made a swipe for Jeet’s knee as he crouched there, trying to pull him down to the ground. Jeet cursed and nearly fell, backhanding Scab and sending him so off balance he crashed face first into the metal catwalk. He was up on his hands almost immediately, ready to fight back, trying to shift himself around into a position to be able to lunge at Jeet again.

Well he was a determined thing, Jeet had to give him that. Maybe that’s why Blas liked him. He smirked, he still felt like fucking, Scab would have to do. He didn’t expect the War Boy to be cooperative at all, so he stood and grabbed both his legs, dragging Scab behind him as he headed for the storeroom. Scab sputtered and tried to grab onto anything he could to keep from being forcibly taken somewhere.

“Don’t touch me! I’m a War Boy and you are just a worthless Wastelander! Filth.” He winced as he was pulled chest down over uneven ground, trying to protect his face with his arms since he didn’t have much hope of getting out of this. “You play pretend here. Think you’re an Imperator, but I know them, and they are glorious. You’re nothing like that, hiding in your tower! All concerned with plotting and planning and never take to the attack. Burnt up and hollow!” Scab only paused in his tirade as Jeet jerked him over the threshold into the room, smashing his face into the wall as he did. “I was a Champion! And all you have are Wretched, too sun-addled to know you offer them nothing.”

He kept right on yelling insults as Jeet kicked the door closed, would have continued his loud rant, but Jeet pulled some rope off the storeroom shelves and shoved it in Scab’s mouth, tying it behind his head in a makeshift gag. It didn’t quiet him, but at least he couldn’t understand him anymore. Jeet pinned his hands to the ground above his head, sitting on his chest, “You’re not a champion no more are ya?”

Scab seethed and struggled. He was incredibly strong, his shoulders huge and heavily muscled, but everything below his waist was just dead weight, and without his arms he was basically incapacitated. Jeet tied his arms together despite his violent thrashing, finally backing off of him so he could work his pants off. Scab still tried to resist, rocking back and forth on his shoulders to try and turn over and get some purchase with his arms, but every time he got close Jeet would push him down onto his back, destroying his progress.

He was unusually disproportionate, his upper body thick and burly, his lower half spindly and wasting. Jeet knelt between Scab’s legs, hoisting his knees up over his shoulders, he gave them a jiggle and smirked. Scab couldn’t pull back, and couldn’t feel what was happening to him; Jeet could be as rough with him as he wanted. Scab growled something around the gag, straining to pull himself into a sitting position. He couldn’t though, not without being able to move his hips. His snarling intensified, he hated being helpless, being reminded that he was broken and no longer a functional War Boy.

He hadn’t even realized that Jeet had started to fuck him until the thrusts started getting rough enough to scoot him along the floor. Digging his elbows into the ground he tried to stay in place, all while hurling muffled insults about Jeet’s sexual prowess through the rope in his mouth. The abuse kept on coming as he was jerked around, Jeet digging his hands into his hips to keep him from sliding away from him. Then Scab quite abruptly collapsed, arms going limp against his chest, shoulders rolled backwards and sending him arching off the ground with a loud screaming moan, before thudding onto the floor and practically melting. His entire body twitched, muscles clenching and releasing as the orgasm spasmed through him.

And suddenly Jeet understood what Blas saw in Scab. The War Boy was practically unconscious, eyes closed, whimpering sounds escaping from behind the gag as he panted heavily. That was quite the ego trip, being able to reduce this normally screeching, feral monster into a pile of mush. Jeet finished himself off, only reveling in the moment briefly before he dropped Scab’s legs to the sides and tucked himself back in his pants. Leaning forward he untied Scab’s wrists before tugging the gag out and fully expecting him to start screaming again.

He didn’t. He barely reacted, arms slumping to the side as he lay there making soft sounds. Jeet scooped him up into his arms, dragging him by his legs when he was like that seemed wrong somehow. He was surprisingly heavy, for some reason Jeet had expected him to weigh nothing since he was so floppy. Scab curled into his chest, almost a completely different person now that he’d been fucked hard. Jeet didn’t bother to try and get his pants back on those nerveless legs, just draped them across Scab as he carried him back to Blas’ small room.

Surprisingly Blas was awake, sitting outside his room and looking uncharacteristically angry. He glowered at Jeet as the man knelt down so he could deposit the naked War Boy on the floor. Jeet returned the look as Blas possessively wrapped his arm around Scab and silently pulled him deeper into the room, gently arranging him in a comfortable position on the mattress.

Jeet returned to his chair, laughing to himself as he realized that Blas was jealous. He wasn’t sure of who, but he hadn’t thought the Bullet Boy had it in him to be emotionally attached to anything. That was certainly interesting, and potentially … useful.


End file.
